Moving On
by graceandfire
Summary: Crossover The Fast & The FuriousStargate Atlantis. Brian O'Conner is recruited into the SGC and finds himself in Atlantis. Takes place after the end of TF&TF and in Season 3 of SGA. Starts Gen with eventual Brian O'Conner and Elizabeth Weir.
1. Chapter 1

_Los Angeles_

When Brian O'Conner was brought in to the FBI's L.A. headquarters two weeks after he handed Dominic Toretto the keys to his Supra he figured the feds had finally decided to bring charges against him and that he was royally fucked.

But the two agents who picked him up didn't put him in cuffs so maybe this was just one more attempt to pressure him into rolling over on Dom and Vince and the rest of the team. Brian walked into the federal building with a blank face, emotions shut down, prepared to be stoic and sarcastic and resolutely ignoring the coldly irrational fear in the pit of his stomach that he would walk into the interrogation room and see Dom cuffed to a chair, caught. The thought was somehow worse than the way more realistic fear of his own ass ending up in prison which, with the love cons had for cops, was pretty much a guaranteed death sentence.

But things went weird. Instead of being taken to the cold, stark gunmetal grey interrogation room he'd been expecting, Brian was led to a nice, comfortable, airy gunmetal blue conference room where the agents left him, no cuffs, no watchdogs, no threats, not even a parting glare. Then a pleasant looking older woman came in and asked if he wanted coffee. Figuring he might be in jail by the end of the day Brian said "Uh, yeah, thanks." When she came back in she gave him standard Government issue black coffee, not too horrible, not too great, in a blue mug that said 'FBI' and left him alone. With his coffee. Very weird.

Brian figured sooner or later someone was gonna show up and let him in on just what the hell was going on and, until then, he might as well sit back and enjoy his coffee in his FBI mug. So he sat there and burned his tongue on the scalding brew as his thoughts started moving in the same unhelpful cycle they'd been going in for weeks; wondering where Dom was, how Mia was doing, if Vince was going to regain the use of his arm, if Jesse was ever going to wake up from his coma and how the fuck it all went so wrong.

When the door opened he looked up and got his next big surprise of the day. It wasn't feds who filed into the room. It was military. A woman entered first, tall, around 40, short blonde hair and hot in an all American Amazonian way. Eyeing the silver oak leaves on her uniform he frowned in consideration as she approached, trying to work out what the hell the Air Force could possibly have to do with the truck hijackings. This made no sense. Unless Dom had somehow hijacked military equipment? But, no, there hadn't been any military items listed on the stolen goods manifests.

The blonde approached and held out her hand to him with a bright and friendly smile, blue eyes clear of guile and said "Mr. O'Conner? I'm Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter of the U.S. Air Force."

Seriously puzzled by both the woman's presence and also her total lack of animosity and hard assedness Brian smiled back warily and shook her hand. "Hi. Call me Brian."

At his offer, her smile kicked up a notch and she went from 'very pretty' to 'wow' her face as bright as sunshine. "Please call me Sam."

As Sam settled into a seat at the conference table Brian's wary gaze scoped out the rest of the party. There was another air force officer, young, who hung back deferentially like he was her aide or something and there was an older man, civilian, in a tailored suit. Older guy looked like a lawyer. What the hell was going on?

"You're probably wondering why we asked you here," Samantha Carter started as she settled down, crossing a pair of very nice legs.

Well, he hadn't exactly been _asked_ here so much as forcibly marched but the wondering part was true. "Yeah, I am" Brian admitted, curiosity growing stronger. If this wasn't related to the hijackings, what the hell could it be about?

Sam's gaze went serious. "First of all Brian, what I'm about to tell you is highly classified. Before we go any further I'm going to ask you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Mr. Drake," she indicated the guy Brian had pinned as a lawyer "is going to go over the forms with you."

"Okay," Brian said, drawing the word out as his brows furrowed. A _non-disclosure_ agreement? What the fucking fuck?

He barely registered the next fifteen minutes as Drake (hah, he'd pegged him right as a lawyer) led him through about fifty pages of a non-disclosure agreement that required Brian's signature seventeen times and his initials another twenty. His hand was cramping by the time he was done and his curiosity was surging as he signed his life away and nodded his understanding of the lawyer's warnings of 'very serious consequences' if he broke the agreement. Brian almost laughed in the lawyer's face at his stern attempts to intimidate but managed to bite back the urge to say 'try the threat of Lompoc penitentiary for a soon to be ex-cop, punk.'

With the disclosure agreement signed, everyone settled in silence for a moment before Sam opened her mouth and said in a determined rush "You're going to have a hard time believing this but I want to ask you to please keep an open mind and to listen to what I have to say without interrupting. I'll be happy to answer any questions you have after I'm done and you've had a moment to process. Okay?"

"Okay," Brian blinked back at her. Maybe he was about to learn who really shot JFK.

Turned out what Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter had to say was a hell of a lot stranger.

Stargates?

Aliens?

Ancients?

ATA genes?

_Atlantis_?

Un-fucking-believable.

"So let me get this straight," Brian said, holding up a hand to cut Sam off when it looked like she was starting to wind down. "There are aliens out there. Some are 'good' aliens and some are 'bad' aliens." His voice was mild and easygoing, the same voice he'd used to talk crazies down from ledges when he was still on the force. "We're descended from some of the 'good' aliens called the Ancients. Some of us have their gene, this 'ATA' gene, which lets us use their technology. And we know where the lost island of Atlantis is, only it's not a lost island, it's a lost city on a lost planet in a lost galaxy." He blinked. "Did I get that right?"

"Uh, yes?" Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter said hopefully.

Brian just stared at her for a moment trying to see where the con was. But the thing was; his bullshit meter, his finely _tuned_ bullshit meter honed by both his time in juvie and his time as a cop was sitting quiet. As completely freaking _insane_ as Sam's story about aliens and other galaxies was Brian's bullshit meter actually _believed _it. And, bottom line, what possible benefit could they be getting from trying to pull a con like this on him? There was no way he could see that this could lead to a trap for Dom and Mia. A trap for him, yeah, but…why?

"Okay, let's say everything you're saying's true." He saw her start to smile and hastily interjected "Not that I'm saying it _is_ true. But let's go with it. You think I have this ATA gene? That's why you're telling me all this?"

Sam beamed at him like he was a particularly bright student who'd just said something clever. "Actually we _know_ you have the ATA gene," she said. "You see we've been trying to expand our testing of the public population to increase our chances of finding people with the ATA gene. It's incredibly rare and even though we've developed a gene therapy that can create the gene artificially in people with a success rate of almost 50, we've found that there are still benefits to those who have the gene naturally." Sam had leaned forward and something in her face told Brian this woman spent a lot of time lecturing people.

"About a year ago we started having federal and state employees of law enforcement and scientific agencies that already undergo yearly drug screenings as part of their jobs get tested for the ATA gene marker as well. The labs didn't know what they were testing for of course," Sam said with a rueful smile. "They thought it was part of an advanced cancer screening test still in developmental stages. If a person's blood was flagged with the marker their blood sample was forwarded to the SGC labs for closer analysis. You see," she leaned in a little more, her passion for the project lighting up her big blue eyes. "We've been able to make our testing more accurate in the past two years so that not only can we detect the presence of the ATA gene but we can also detect with a less than 2 variance the likely _strength _of the gene."

"And my gene is pretty strong?" Brian asked, fascinated in spite of himself. Aliens and ancients and fricking _Atlantis_? It was right out of the comic books he used to read as a kid.

Sam smiled enthusiastically at this comment. "Brian your gene is one of the strongest we've ever seen in a human."

Brian blinked at that. "Oh. Cool."

He guessed. If you were gonna be a weird alien descended freak show you might as well be the best weird alien descended freak show you could be.

"So, what exactly do you want from me Sam?" 'Cause, guaranteed, she was buttering him up for something.

Sam straightened in her seat and took in another deep breath. Here came the sales pitch.

"We want you to do a tour on Atlantis," she said in utter seriousness.

Huh. Brian kept his expression impassive as his mind rapidly examined all the angles. The U.S. Air Force wanted him to go to another galaxy. That was…unexpected. He'd thought best case maybe they wanted him to work in a lab part time looking at alien shit or worst case Sam was just being nice to him right before he found himself strapped down on a table in some government lab to be cut open to see what the ATA gene looked like from the inside out.

Being asked to go to Atlantis? Where did that land on the scale of best case/worst case scenarios? He had no fucking clue.

"You know I'm not sure I _can_ just up and go even if I wanted to," Brian said cautiously. If they'd had the feds bring him in then they had to know about his current mess.

"Yes we know about the, uh, difficulties encountered with your last case," Sam nodded. "We've reviewed the case files and talked to both a Sergeant Tanner and an Agent Bilkins about your role."

Brian suppressed the wince, keeping his face stoic. "And you still want me to go?"

"We've read your personnel file, your psych reviews; we know about your time in juvenile detention and we know about your latest, uh, case and yes, we want you to go. Your background and training shows you have potential and other than this last case, your record on the force is a good one. And actually, for all the current difficulties, Sergeant Tanner still thinks you have a great deal of potential."

Hearing that caused a sudden wash of shame considering how much Tanner had already put himself on the line for Brian and how Brian had repaid him. "And Bilkins?" Brian asked, shying away from thoughts of Tanner. He was pretty sure Bilkins didn't think he had a great deal of potential.

Amusement glimmered in Sam's eyes. "Bilkins is _not_ happy about how the case went down," she admitted. "But he's actually not out to get you. That's pretty impressive actually considering the amount of blame that's being tossed around right now." She watched him digest the information in silence.

"Look Brian, we're not going to force you to go," Sam looked honest in her sincerity. "If you aren't interested we'll leave and you'll never hear from us again. But if you are interested we can help you with your current situation. Sign on for a one year tour in Atlantis as a civilian consultant and we'll wipe your slate clean. You won't face charges and when you get back you'll have a recommendation that should help you get into any law enforcement agency in the United States."

That…was tempting. Not only the thought of wiping his record clean but the sudden thought that he could get away. That he could start somewhere fresh, where there were no betrayals and accusing eyes. Brian thought about the shambles his life was currently in. Thought about the fact that Dom was long gone, probably hiding out in Mexico. That Mia was alone and betrayed and rightfully wanting nothing to do with him. Dom's chosen family was shattered and scattered; the family he had ached to be a part of. His life here was over and now he had a chance. A final chance. To start over. And to make things right.

He took a slow breath and then looked at Sam, intensity focusing out from electric blue eyes. "If you can get all charges dropped against Dominic Toretto and his crew I'll sign on."


	2. Chapter 2

_Cheyenne Mountain_

Brian hadn't realized at the time how damn lucky he'd been that it was Sam Carter who'd come to see him in L.A. When he'd met her he'd seen a genuinely nice, really good looking Air Force Colonel, which he'd figured was rare enough. Turned out she was also possibly the smartest person on the planet, vital to the Stargate project and a woman with a hell of a lot of pull. And for some reason she had decided Brian was perfect for the Stargate program. For_ two years_ of the Stargate program as his employment contract made clear. After his wary agreement Sam had gone to work with a determination and focus that was intimidating as hell and, after a few awkward stops and starts and what Brian was sure must have been some extremely pained screaming on the parts of the FBI and LAPD, his sole condition was met. He hadn't really thought Sam would go for it or have the authority to make his terms happen but there it was like a freaking miracle.

The feds, the LAPD and the trucking companies agreed to drop all charges against Dominic Toretto and his crew as long as full restitution was made. Since it turned out Dom had most of the stuff still stashed away not to mention one hell of a lot of cash from his street racing, he was able meet the authorities' conditions. The hijackings had always been more about the thrill than about the cash anyway. Dom and Mia didn't even have to sell off the garage or their home.

After getting over her suspicion that the deal was some kind of trap, Mia had moved from wary to ecstatic, acting as her brother's fierce go-between dealing with the authorities while her attorney had quickly hammered the deal into place. From what little Mia was willing to tell Brian, her brother was coordinating with her from Mexico and would be returning with Letty and Leon only after their freedom was guaranteed with an ironclad signed agreement.

Brian didn't tell her his part in brokering the deal. He'd caused her enough grief and, shit, it's not like he really deserved her forgiveness no matter what steps he took to make things right. So he left L.A. on a perfect sunny, cloudless day; a beat up green duffle bag and memories of a family that had almost been his as his only companions.

Colorado was okay, at least, what he saw of it from the airport to Cheyenne Mountain. The rest of his time in the 38th state was spent hundreds of feet beneath the freaking mountain which, he was just grateful he wasn't claustrophobic. Even so, as the days passed the weight of the mountain started to feel oppressive; the garish fluorescent lights a pale, poor imitation of real sunlight which he started to crave like an addict deprived of his fix.

Brian was a creature of the outdoors. Cities, yeah, he liked cities just fine but he liked being _outdoors_ in cities, where he could feel the caress of sunlight on his skin. He'd grown up in Arizona for Christ's sake and gone from Arizona to L.A. which had suited him just as well. When, for five minutes after giving Dom the keys to the Supra, Brian had given serious consideration to cutting and running he'd had a hazy picture of tropical Florida in his mind. Living underground like a mole just was _not _natural and as Brian attended briefing after briefing he prayed to God Atlantis had some sun.

If his misgivings about what he'd signed on for grew, he kept them to himself. Samantha Carter had done right by him. She had helped him make restitution for the hurt he'd caused, helped him fix the pain left by his mistakes. Brian wasn't going to let her down now.

Brian was finished letting people down.

Anyway, it wasn't like he saw much of her once he made it to the mountain. Aside from passing her in the corridors once in awhile, or spotting her at the mess, they ran in different circles. Apparently, Sam Carter was kept pretty busy saving the entire world, a fact which had Brian breaking out into a cold sweat the first time he first realized just how literally true that statement was and how much planet earth owed Sam Carter and her team called SG-1.

He spent a lot of his time wrapping his mind around the whole concept of aliens and Atlantis and science fiction made real. The first time he made something light up with his mind he had to stop himself from grinning like a twelve year old discovering girls in bikinis. He spent most of his time leading up to departure learning as much as he could about the secrets now open to him. When Brian wasn't being briefed or trained or told to think 'on' at alien shit he spent his time in the weight room or the library reading everything he could get his hands on about Atlantis. Since very few of the texts were actually in English he mostly immersed himself in those mission reports that he had security clearance for. The reports resembled the plots of science fiction novels and he wondered with growing disbelief just what useful contributions Sam expected him to make in an apparently _insane_ galaxy that came with its very own life sucking vampire aliens.

Was he going to just be a big, human, 'on' button? Bait for the wraith? Did they need a good mechanic? He had no clue what was coming and in the end just shook his head and told himself 'Go with it man. Just go with it.'

And then somehow it was D day and he was going whether he was ready or not. He found himself beamed up to a freaking _space ship_ (which holy _shit_ was cool) and headed out to freaking Atlantis and as he watched the tiny ball that was planet earth from the Daedalus' observation deck he figured this was either going to be more amazing than racing or the biggest freaking mistake of his life. Either way, he'd find out on the other side.

_Atlantis_

Atlantis was…not what he expected. Not that he'd had any idea _what_ to expect since, Jesus, what _could_ you think about heading towards a lost legend in another galaxy via a really awesome spaceship—cause, man the spaceship thing just was _not_ getting old.

But Brian was used to rolling with punches, to adapting to his environment. Undercover work was great training for being flexible so he'd embraced the whole 'wait and see' approach to the Atlantis/alien thing.

So huge, better than Star Wars, space ship? Cool.

Little gray alien insulting you with indifferent condescension in the elevator? Whatever.

Seeing an endless field of darkness filled with billions upon billions of stars? Well, that one had caught his breath until he thought he might pass out from the awe of it.

But in general, Brian was going with the flow. He'd studied reports and seen pictures—thank God Atlantis was above ground—but purposely had few expectations when he beamed down to the floating city. Sweating about it wasn't gonna change anything so just let happen what was gonna happen.

What happened was that Atlantis blew him away. From the moment Brian materialized in the city, blinking against the bustle of people who were all on a mission, energy crackling around them in the air. From the moment a city, shining and brilliant, whispered _welcome _and _you belong here_, he felt peace settle around him like a comforting blanket. As insane as the idea was, Brian felt like he'd come home. Atlantis sure as hell was nothing like Arizona but the sense of homecoming went deeper than childhood imprinting; it went all the way down to bone and soul. The curve of the walls lulled him, the lights pulsed in welcome, the faint wisp of salt and coolness of the air made him want to close his eyes and breathe it in. And the waves crashing below the observation balconies made him wonder if alien cities had surf boards. Atlantis was amazing in such a good way that Brian waited cautiously for the bad shit to happen.

It didn't.

He was assigned to an orientation group, mostly soft sciences and support people; a nutritionist, some cooks, computer techs, a mixed bag. The first couple days were devoted to general orientation along the lines of 'Cafeteria's open 24/7'; 'Yes, these really _are_ transporters'; 'Okay, these areas on the map are the _safe_ explored areas and these areas on the map are the _deadly_ explored areas'; and 'watch out for a man named Dr. McKay'. After his group was led through the basic stuff, they were split up and Brian was given orders to report to the Military XO, Major Lorne.

Brian was a little wary about dealing with the military contingent. LAPD could be macho enough so he figured the Marines and Air Force personnel were probably twice as bad and less than thrilled to be saddled with an outsider. But turned out Major Lorne of the U.S. Air Force was an easy going guy about everything except football and making sure his people didn't get hurt. They shot the shit for almost an hour about Brian's experience and training with the LAPD and about random guy stuff like sports and cars and women with large breasts. Brian could tell Lorne was feeling him out about something but since he was still going with his 'not worrying about shit' method of living he just let himself enjoy talking to the guy.

Turned out Lorne was looking for additional Gate team members who could be trained as pilots and, after discussing the chances of the Chargers making it to the Superbowl next year, Lorne suddenly brought the discussion back around to Atlantis.

"Look, with your background and training and, of course, the Ancient gene I think you'd be a valuable member of our Gate teams. Of course," Lorne cautioned with a half grin, "we'll have to see how you take to the flying lessons and how you rate at combat and firearms training. But if it works out…are you interested?"

Brian's grin was honest and probably lit up his face because it was more—much more—than he'd expected. Feeling light hearted for the first time in a very long time he said "sounds like a deal."

He reported for his very first flying lesson at 0900 the next morning. At his first sight of the ships he broke into another broad grin because fuck, _space ships_, honest to freaking God _space ships—_that just wasn't ever gonna get old. Gazing around at the ancient built ships Brian felt a sudden, surprising ache shoot through him as he thought _'Dom would have fucking loved this.'_ The thought brought a half pained smile as he stood there, caught off guard by the sudden wash of memories and the realization of how far away from that life he was.

Shaking it off, Brian looked around for his flight instructor. Not seeing anyone else, he frowned and shouted "Hey! Anyone there?"

The answering smooth hum had him doing a swift turn just in time to watch one of the nearby ships' rear hatches finish descending down into a ramp.

"Over here!" a voice floated down from its recesses right before the owner strode down the ramp. The man was tall, similar to Brian in body type and older by about ten years. He was good looking and had a lazy smirk on his face that reminded Brian of California and beaches and, for some reason, Dom. The guy sure as hell didn't _look_ like Dom. He was Caucasian, had narrowed hazel green eyes and he had _way _the hell more hair, standing up in spikes and tufts that had to involve more hair care product than Brian thought military guys were allowed to use. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and combat pants and his left hand was in a cast.

"Hey," the other man said, giving a nod as he reached Brian. "You O'Conner?"

"Yeah man. You the guy who's supposed to teach me to fly?"

"That's me," the man said, offering a lopsided smile as he held out his unbroken hand. "John Sheppard."

"Hey."

The man's grip was firm but easy. No macho posturing. The guy looked sarcastic without saying a word but then he grinned; boyish glee and anticipation that made him look suddenly like a twelve year old slightly manic elf as he rubbed his hands together. "Okay then. Let me introduce you to the coolest thing _ever_."

Brian's first flying lesson with John Sheppard—military commander of Atlantis John Sheppard he later learned—was a kick in the pants rush of adrenaline. Sheppard started out slow and calm, his laconic voice competently going over the controls and detailing how the jumper liked to respond in various situations. He took them up above the city and made idle conversation as he patiently waited for Brian to deal with the absolutely amazing rush of being in open sky with Atlantis, the most beautiful of ladies, floating like a jewel below them. Finally, after a few minutes Sheppard eased off of the controls and nodded for Brian to take over.

They went through flight procedures methodically, carefully and by the books…for about ten minutes. After that Sheppard raised an impressed eyebrow at Brian's instinctive understanding of the controls and asked if he wanted to have a little fun. After Brian's wide grin and "hell yeah", things really got interesting as the lesson quickly degenerated into managing crazier and crazier stunts over the city until they finally got an annoyed call from the control room with a husky female voice asking them to 'please stop buzzing the city John.' Brian and Sheppard were both grinning like fools as Brian landed the jumper back in the launch bay, feeling the instinctive camaraderie of those who had the absolute rush of speed racing through their veins.

Exiting the small ship, Sheppard casually asked "So, tomorrow you wanna try going out into space?"

Brian's grin was blinding. "Cool."

After that first lesson Brian started spending a lot of his free time hanging out with Sheppard and his team. Sheppard was grounded from missions for another three weeks until his cast came off and he cheerfully admitted that goofing off with Brian was a hell of a lot more fun than the horrible alternative of catching up on paperwork.

Sheppard was the perfect guide to Atlantis. Not only did he know the practical stuff like who ran the super secret still, which of the cooks could be bribed and where all the porn was stashed on the servers, he knew what it was to have Atlantis practically purring in his mind. As they spent more time together Brian realized it was no wonder they'd hit it off. They had a scary amount of shit in common even _before_ Brian found out about the FUBAR Sheppard had made of his career in Afghanistan that reverberated so closely with his own.

McKay maybe put it best after his first suspicious hour in Brian's company at which point he'd burst out with a disbelieving "So let me get this straight You're a stupid suicidal speed freak who loves stupid extreme sports. You have a very powerful Ancient gene which," his face twisted into a sour scowl "I will not even get into the extreme _unfairness_ of. You probably have busty bimbos falling all over you because of your _superficial_ boy toy looks and you _have perfect hair_! You're his God damn _twin_!"

McKay also managed to call Brian a moron seven times in their first hour of acquaintance.

After about ten minutes in McKay's company, Brian seriously considered beating the shit out of the guy. He reluctantly gave up the idea because a) McKay seemed to be Sheppard's best friend; b) McKay was the head of science—he'd said so _six times_—and; c) maybe Brian was getting smarter. Anyway, if he ignored the 1/3 of McKay's comments that were insults and the 1/3 of McKay's comments that were light years over Brian's head, the other 1/3 was actually pretty entertaining. So Brian decided if he could put up with Vince he could sure as shit put up with an asshole scientist and, besides, McKay's manic manner and apparent genius kind of reminded him of Jesse; except Jesse hadn't been an asshole.

Sheppard's other teammates were much, much easier to get along with. Ronon was the most massive person Brian had ever met and at first and second glance seemed like the big, muscle bound type with zero original thoughts. But Brian soon discovered that after you got past the tendency towards stoic silences and grunting, there was a sly sense of humor hiding under all that hair. The first time he accepted Ronon's casual invitation to spar, Brian also discovered that the larger man could mop the floor with him in less than five seconds. Brian didn't feel too bad though considering that Ronon could wipe out a full squad of _marines_ in about five seconds. He took his lumps as a learning experience, and started studying unarmed combat with the intensity that he usually reserved for cars and people named Toretto. He also learned the names of several of the infirmary staff as he limped in to cadge bandages and ice packs after practices.

Teyla Emmagen was beautiful and exotic and might have reminded Brian of Mia except the Athosian woman seemed to have a never ending supply of patience and an amused way of looking at the world. Mia, beneath her Madonna looks, had possessed the volatile temper of a wildcat and could, and often had, cussed Dom, Leon and Vince into the floor. As calm as Teyla appeared on the surface, Brian learned pretty quickly that Teyla could calmly wipe the floor with him too and, as he applied ice to yet another black eye, he ruefully wondered if there was anyone in Atlantis who _couldn't_ kick his ass. Fortunately his 'too stubborn to live' nature and his building desire to be accepted into this new world had him throwing himself into the lessons with Ronon and Teyla and some of the friendlier Marines. That combined with natural talent meant he got better. A lot better.

Fortunately for his male ego he was a damn good shot coming in and could hold his own against pretty much anyone at the firing range. He took to the P-90 like a cat to cat-nip ignoring McKay's acid comments about "if you're going to keep rubbing your weapon like that you should really get a room." After he put six shots in the head and another six in the heart of his target he got a friendly punch of approval from Lorne and a just as satisfying grunt/nod from Ronon.

And then there was the flying. Oh God the _flying_. It was better than street racing. It was better than pretty much anything anywhere _ever_ and Sheppard understood that better than anyone else could. It wasn't only the speed or the views or the awe of taking the ship up into space, leaving planetary atmosphere behind until there was an endless field of stars leading to an eternity of pathways. It was the perfect responsiveness of the jumpers. It was the melding of mind and technology and something more. At first he thought he was imagining it; imagining the welcoming whispers pulsing from the very walls of the city, whispering at him as he sat at the jumper controls. When he finally, cautiously broached the subject with Sheppard the other man had turned to him and grinned, an open, honest smile that Brian had already come to realize was as elusive and rare as quicksilver. "You feel it too? Isn't it amazing?"

Yeah. It really, really was.


	3. Chapter 3

_Elizabeth_

Brian was cleared for active field duty about a month after arriving in Atlantis. Sheppard was already back on active duty and he and the rest of AG-1 were off-world on the day Lorne grinned and gave him the news ending with "welcome to the madness, heh." So Brian spent the evening before his first mission alone in his quarters, anticipation humming through his veins the same way it had before his first undercover assignment.

He was restless in his own skin and, if he'd been back on earth, he would have grabbed his keys and gone for a long, fast drive, using speed as his pressure valve to bleed the tension away. He gave serious thought to sweet talking a jumper for a night flight but figured his chances of that were pretty slim. So instead he gritted his teeth and settled down for the night, lanky form folded up in his one chair, reading through his mission briefing with more stubborn determination than actual interest. He was still at it when a knock at his door had him opening up to an empty hall. Frowning, Brian looked down and broke into a wide grin when he saw the sweating bottle of Corona sitting mysteriously on the floor, a wide red ribbon tied jauntily around its neck.

The knowledge that someone had cared enough to leave his favorite beer as a good luck gift sent warmth flooding through him and Brian knew he was grinning like a loon as he scooped up the beer and brought it back into his room. He sat for awhile on the edge of his bed, just rolling the chilled bottle between his hands and letting the memories tease through him. For once they were only good ones; no regrets tainting the images that flashed through his mind. He hoped Mia and Dom were doing okay. Maybe…maybe when—if—he made it back to earth he'd try to see them again. But for now…for now it was good to be here in Atlantis; this fantastic, far away city that was starting to feel like home.

The next morning Brian reported to the Gate Room and even with the nerves running underneath his calm façade he noticed Dr. Elizabeth Weir. He knew who she was of course; the brilliant, civilian leader of Atlantis. He'd researched her out of curiosity even before he'd left Cheyenne Mountain, wanting to know more about the woman who commanded a legendary city. Weir's public record had been amazing and even a layman like Brian had been impressed at her long and brilliant list of accomplishments which read like a how to guide on being a kick-ass diplomat in two galaxies.

Once Brian actually arrived in Atlantis he'd found that Weir also commanded the loyalty of those around her to an impressive degree. He hadn't been too surprised that the scientists and other civilians respected her. After all, he figured in an operation like this—not that there _was _an operation anywhere else like this—the civilians would just be happy that the head guy wasn't military. But it had surprised the hell out him that the military contingent seemed to hold her in equally high regard. Sheppard sure as hell respected her…it was there, clear as crystal if you could see beneath the lazy smile and 'refusal to be serious' surface. And it wasn't just Sheppard; the respect and honest affection was almost universal in the faces and voices of the soldiers he talked to. It left Brian curious about what kind of civilian woman could successfully lead such a diverse group of people and command the respect of the notoriously chauvinistic and insular military.

So Brian had been prepared to like Doctor Elizabeth Weir; had even been looking forward to meeting her. But in no way had he been prepared for the sheer _want_ that punched through him when they finally came face to face. Fighting down the arousal, the intense awareness of Weir as a female, as she smiled and introduced herself with a friendly nod, Brian could only give himself a mental eye roll of disgust and think _'Well fuck, O'Conner, it's been a few months since you screwed up so I guess you were due._'

And then he was too busy standing with his teammates watching the gate engage in an amazing geyser of electric blue energy and, as Brian stepped through the Star Gate for the first time, he pushed any thoughts about the disturbingly hot leader of Atlantis firmly from his mind.

The mission was a disaster. There were natives. Unfriendly natives. Unfriendly natives with pointy spears. Eberhart the team linguist/anthropologist shouted back and forth with them while Brian and the marines stood under the pounding heat of the planet's unforgiving red sun and held their P-90's in as threatening a manner as possible. Turned out the natives weren't really interested in trading but _were _kind of interested in taking the pretty blonde with the eyes that 'shone like the ancient ring when it flared' as a love slave. Eberhart later _swore_ that those were the native leader's _exact words_ even after Brian started threatening him very seriously while the marines snickered in the background.

Brian felt like he'd somehow screwed up the mission but no one seemed very upset about it. Instead he got a lot of 'dude it happens all the time' comments and in McKay's case a hissed 'Oh God, I knew it! I _knew _it! You're God damn _twins_!"

Atlantis was a very strange place Brian concluded. And maybe the old rules, the known rules, required a little translating. He decided he liked it. Yeah, sure there were fights and petty bickering and bad shit happened (life sucking aliens still not a good thing) but, in all, Atlantis was a family; a tight knit, dysfunctional, 'I'd give my life for you' family. It was like Dom's eclectic circle—only bigger and with a whole lotta geniuses—and Brian felt the acceptance of this second self-made family soothing the raw edges of his soul.

He also found himself watching Elizabeth Weir. _A lot_.

It wasn't stalking, he assured himself.

Well, okay, maybe it was semi-stalking.

Brian was honest enough to admit that it wasn't pure coincidence (or, okay fuck, _any_ kind of coincidence) that had him finding excuses to be in the gate room when Elizabeth was on duty there; or memorizing her work-out schedule; or noticing that she liked Sunflowers. But it wasn't stalking. It was just…the instinctive observations of a trained cop.

Yeah, right.

Brian picked up a scary amount of information about Elizabeth Weir in the weeks that followed and it all just made his whacked_—because you are _whacked_, O'Conner_—attraction grow. He learned that while John may have been the soul of Atlantis, and McKay the brain, Elizabeth…Elizabeth was the heart. He learned that she was a brilliant woman who never condescended to others about her intellect and that massive braininess was apparently a newly discovered kink for him which, as long as he didn't start getting a hard-on around McKay he could live with just fine. Elizabeth was a scholar who valued learning. She was also a leader who cared about her people with a fierceness that hid beneath the diplomat's training and natural calm. Brian learned that it was hard for her—harder than people realized because of that calmness—to be left behind in the safety of the city while her people stepped into the unknown every day.

It made him want to distract her. It made him want to see her smile. Although Elizabeth possessed a serious nature, smiling seemed to come naturally to her. Brian managed to spot nine different types of smiles, four different laughs, and six frowns (three of them reserved exclusively for Sheppard and McKay) and was fascinated at the way she could go from looking as dignified as a Queen to snickering like a six year old when she thought no one was looking.

The more Brian learned, the more he wanted to learn and he knew, he _knew_, that this was stupid. He was just a grunt, a foot soldier and Elizabeth…well, she was so far out of his league that he felt like a peasant in some stupid medieval romance mooning after the God damn Queen. But, fuck it. Brian had never been much good at listening to logic over instincts anyway, and his instincts were insisting—loudly—that Brian would be good for Elizabeth; that they would be good together.

So, after staring restlessly up at the ceiling of his quarters every night for a week, horny and pissed off and tired of arguing with himself about what a stupid thing he was about to do he told his smarter side to shut the fuck up and began his pursuit. He started slowly, gradually. It was almost like going undercover again except he sure as hell didn't plan to arrest Elizabeth at the end of it. He kept a leash on his bolder instincts which urged him to talk Elizabeth—Liz—into a dark corner and use sex and seduction until the objections he _knew_ she'd have fell away under sheer want. He ruthlessly repressed his 'go for it _now_' alpha dog tendencies and carefully carved out a more subtle pursuit.

Brian was realistic enough to know he was a good looking guy and that people responded to him. Of course, sometimes they responded by trying to bash his brains in, like Vince back in L.A., but one way or another they were rarely indifferent. He still wasn't completely sure _why _people seemed drawn to him but he just prayed whatever he seemed to have worked on brainy diplomats.

He started putting himself around Liz more and more; hovering at the edges of her peripheral awareness and then slowly edging closer. He smiled and he joked and he made himself useful, joining groups she was in when he could, although she tended to go solo a lot of the time. Their casual in passing "hey Dr. Weir" and "hello Brian" greetings became less polite friendliness and more 'hey, it's _you_' smiles and they started to talk. Brian let his awareness of her as a female come across—never let it all out, but never tried to completely hide it either. He was rewarded when he saw the answering female appreciation flash in her eyes before quickly being masked by a more neutral expression.

As the days passed, Brian felt Liz's eyes follow him more and more from across the gate room or the gym or the cafeteria; caught from the corner of his eyes the way she would look up when he entered a room. He never gave an indication of awareness and ruthlessly suppressed the desire it filled him with to back her against a wall and run his calloused hands over the softness of her skin while he kissed her for about six hours. No, he was taking things slow.

He really _sucked_ at taking things slow.

Brian knew she'd have objections. Even as he felt her awareness of him grow, he knew that if he took the traditional approach and just asked Liz out she'd come up with excuses—no not excuses—_valid reasons_ for why their dating would be a bad idea. The age difference, the position difference, her need to be objective from those she was leading, fears of favoritism and more. He could almost hear the conversation in his head; Elizabeth smiling with a hint of regret, as she firmly said 'I think you're a wonderful man Brian and if circumstances were different but, as head of Atlantis, I have to keep my distance.' He wasn't going to put her in the position to give him that speech.

It wasn't like those weren't reasonable imaginary arguments that imaginary Liz used in his head either. But valid reasons or not, Brian had learned about taking your moments of happiness where you could find them. He figured Elizabeth had learned that too. She _had_ lived in the Pegasus galaxy for the past three years after all. But while in some ways she was just as insane as the rest of the Atlantis crew—she had actually spearheaded this mission after all—in other ways she was a cautious woman.

She was going to need a little convincing.

So Brian continued his plan to take things slow, putting himself in Liz's path and moving closer, letting her know him inch by inch and _not _screwing things up. And it was working. As frustrating as Brian felt at the slow approach, he also felt elation building as her walls slowly came down. He just needed to stay patient; stay on course.

The course and the plan exploded to hell the day Elizabeth disappeared on a diplomatic mission to MX9-647. It was rare for her to go off world and Brian had felt the tension rising inside of him from the moment she stepped through the gate and disappeared from his sight. It was supposed to be as safe as a Pegasus mission _could _get. Relations with the Eldans had been carefully built over several weeks and the state dinner Liz was attending was the culmination of those negotiations. He'd wanted to be on the team that was protecting her, but it was Sheppard's team instead and he kept telling himself that was good because Sheppard's team was the very best. Of course Sheppard's team also seemed to attract the weirdest shit, but at least they were as equally famous for getting themselves _out_ of the weird shit as they were at getting themselves into it in the first place.

If Brian found himself haunting the Gate Room not at all coincidentally at the same time of each check-in, well, he didn't raise too many eyebrows. The Gate Room personnel had long since gotten used to his presence at all hours and, since he usually ambled in with coffee and something sweet from the cafeteria, he was a popular guy. So he was there when the third check-in came and went without contact, and the low level tension that had been humming inside of him kicked up into a cold knot in his gut. Twenty minutes later, when Lorne started putting together an extraction team, just in case, Brian was suiting up with them because no way in hell was he being left behind.

When, an hour after the last missed check-in, there was an unscheduled gate activation and Sheppard's IDC popped onto the monitor, followed by his voice tersely growling that they were coming through hot, Brian was there with a P-90 in his arms and ice washing through his veins. As the team stumbled out of the gate, bloodied and bruised but relatively unhurt, he felt his stomach start to unclench until he got a look at Elizabeth's face where blood was flowing from a gash on her forehead. He didn't know what his expression showed but it must have been bad because Jessup, a six foot five, bad ass Marine from Lorne's team, took one look and very carefully spent the next few minutes telling Brian in a suprisingly soothing tone that it was okay and Brian should 'really put the P-90 down now.'

The team was whisked off to the infirmary while Brian stripped off his gear with choppy, graceless movements in the locker room. Filled with energy that threatened to boil over into something dangerous, he found himself in a mindless run across the city, pushing at a punishing pace as he tried to work off the rage and fear and overload of emotions. Liz could have died out there. She could have died out there without knowing how he felt because he'd been wasting time plotting and planning and taking things God damn _slow_. He ran the thoughts away and, as his feet fell with dull thuds against the empty corridors of the city, Brian found himself missing his old Supra and the open roads of home with a fierce, painful twist of longing. If he could just feel the thrum of an engine, the powerful torque, be enclosed in a purring machine on a twisting road, it would all be okay. Driving had always, _always_ made him feel better about anything and everything. He ached with the need for it now.

When Brian finally jogged back to his quarters he was drenched, muscles trembling with fatigue. He still felt an overflow of energy but at least it was calmer, with a purpose. Brian was fucking done with taking things slow. Time to take a page out of Dominic Toretto's manual and live his life like there was no tomorrow.

Brian called the infirmary to make sure Liz had been released and then set about tracking down what he would need. He had contacts with the botanists' lab and he bribed Parrish into parting with a bouquet of alien flowers that bore a startling resemblance to Sunflowers. He also managed a close approximation of Tiramisu which he hadn't even had to bribe anyone for once he convinced the cooks it was going to Dr. Weir. He left his quarters and headed over to Elizabeth's at 2100 hours, resolutely ignoring the jitters in his stomach that were insisting 'don't screw this up' and 'this fucking matters.'

He stood in front of her door for a moment, stomping down nerves and feeling like an idiot until he finally knocked. Oh fuck, he felt awkward and dorky and he was holding flowers and a present like some sixteen year old going to prom. Not that he'd ever made it to prom—too busy being locked up in juvie, making sure he _wasn't_ somebody's date. Then the door slid open and Elizabeth was looking at him with surprise and the dark circles under her eyes made Brian want to rip some Eldan heads off. Resisting the sudden urge to shuffle his feet, Brian smiled down at her instead. His smile felt weird, trying for easy going and charming and not quite making it. But it seemed to work okay because Elizabeth's own warm mouth curved upwards, still puzzled but welcoming. "Brian, what are you doing here?"

Uh…flowers. Hastily he held up the flowers to her and watched her face light up because every woman liked flowers, even—especially—leaders of entire cities. That at least he was smart enough to know.

"Why Brian I…thank you," her face was still lit with pleasure at the simple gift and Brian felt a warm glow start in the pit of his stomach and shit…he was acting like such a girl. "I just wanted to say I'm glad you're alright," he said simply and watched her sober and then lift a hand to finger the tidy white bandage peeking out from underneath her bangs. "It bled a lot but the cut actually wasn't that bad," she offered.

She gestured back in her living space. "Would you like to come in?" she invited, standing to the side as he edged past her into her quarters. They were pretty big. Easily twice the size of his own and—unlike his own Spartan quarters—looked like someone actually lived there, with art on the walls and books neatly filling shelves and exotic looking knickknacks giving the place a warm feeling without making it fussy. Instead of taking a seat on the couch he followed her to lean against a cabinet while he watched her pull down a tall vase from one of her cabinets and go about arranging the 'almost' sunflowers into a cheerful arrangement which she settled onto her desk.

"So how are you feeling?" he asked, eyes skimming up and down her thin form. She was in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, the most casual he'd ever seen her. The white bandage peeking out from behind her bangs was small and neat and even in her casual dress, she still managed to look like her regular poised, regal self.

"Oh, I'm much better," her smile was rueful. "Unfortunately I'd say that relations with the Eldans have taken a major step backwards."

"We could always bomb the shit out of them," Brian offered with a half smile, not really joking at all.

This earned him an eye roll and a chiding stare. "Yes, John and Ronon have already suggested that." Shaking her head, she went to a carafe plugged in at one of her counters. "Would you like some tea?" she asked as she dispensed hot water into a large, curved mug and dropped a round metal ball filled with leaves into the steaming liquid.

Brian looked at the brewing drink skeptically. "Tea's not really my thing," he admitted.

This earned him one of her imperial eyebrow arches. "Well I'm afraid I'm currently out of Corona," she smiled at him suddenly, impish.

Brian laughed at that. "I like Corona," he agreed. "But it's not the only thing I drink."

"What else do you like?" she asked as she curled up on the couch with her mug, staring at him with what looked like genuine curiosity.

"To drink?" Brian asked, raising a hand to rub at the back of his head. "Uh, Guinness, wine, coffee, Mountain Dew. I'm not that picky."

"But not tea?" she asked, lips curving into a teasing smile.

An answering grin appeared on Brian's face. "Well maybe I just haven't given tea a chance," he admitted, walking over to sit beside her on the couch.

"So Brian?"

"Yeah," he wondered if she'd kill him if he tried to kiss her.

"What's in the bag?"

Bag? Oh! "Oh, I, uh, brought you some dessert."

"Really?" she perked up, much like she had when she'd seen the flowers. Placing the mug on the glass coffee table she rose and went to the counter to examine the contents of the package.

"Tiramisu!" she exclaimed with pleasure. "I love tiramisu!"

"Uhm, yeah, I know," he admitted with a grin. The ground was starting to feel firmer beneath his feet. Yeah, he still might be about to make an ass of himself but, hell, it wouldn't be the first time and the goal was sure as hell worthy.

"Share?" she asked as she got two forks out from a drawer and brought them back to the couch. "Or do you not like tiramisu either?"

Brian grinned and took a fork from her. "Tiramisu I could go for."

"So, you seem to have really settled into things around here," Liz smiled at him as she cut off a bite of the dessert with her fork.

"Yeah," Brian laughed. "Although it's a little scary how often our missions end up with us either running for our lives or getting married to each other in native ceremonies."

Liz laughed. "Right, who was it you ended up married to on that last mission? Eberhart?"

Brian shook his head ruefully. "No man, that was on MX4-820. On this last mission I ended up married to Barnes _and_ Taylor in a three way marriage." Barnes had joked about alimony the entire trip back. The embarrassment of the ceremony—the natives hadn't been big believers in clothes—was made up for by the snicker it teased from Liz.

"If it makes you feel better we ended up with a very successful trade agreement with the Alarans," Liz finally said when she managed to stop laughing.

"Yeah, great," Brian said wryly, a little distracted as his eyes focused in on a dab of cream from the tiramisu that was resting temptingly on her bottom lip. He blinked and thought about resisting for almost two seconds. Oh hell…

"Are you…" Elizabeth's question was muffled by Brian's mouth as he gave in to the inevitable and leaned in to kiss her, tasting the sweetness of the dessert against the softness of her lips. His actions were firm and sure now as he moved in and her mouth opened under his gentle assault. He wasn't sure if it was because she was into the kiss or about to tell him to go to hell but Brian wasn't about to let the opportunity slip away—especially, if this was the only shot he was gonna get. He slipped his tongue in and met hers, feeling the electric current riding them both as he lifted his hands up to cradle the back of her head, sliding his fingers into soft short waves of silky dark hair. The knowledge that Elizabeth was kissing him back sent a wave of elation through him even as he felt the drug of need build. He lost himself in the pleasure of the contact and he was breathing like he'd raced a mile when he felt Elizabeth start to pull back and he reluctantly let go. Time to face the music.

"Brian I…" she sounded just as out of breath as Brian felt, her cheeks flushed, and there was a dazed expression in her eyes that gave Brian a surge of pure male satisfaction. Of course the dazed expression was quickly replaced by her customary sharp eyed intelligence and she took a steadying breath as she opened her mouth to talk.

Bad idea.

"Wait," Brian said, holding up a hand to cut her off. He couldn't let her get started. She was a freaking world class diplomat. There was no way he'd win an argument with her.

"I know what you're gonna say okay?" he said, staring at her intensely as if he could forestall her objections through sheer will power. "I know all of your arguments because, believe me, I've been having this conversation in my head for weeks but just…hear me out."

"I…"

"Just hear me out," Brian repeated, blue eyes gleaming with pure stubborn, "and if you want me to leave after and forget this ever happened then I will."

"I…alright," the words were said on a soft huff as Liz settled back on the couch giving him an assessing stare.

"Let me guess," Brian started. "You're a very busy woman and you don't have time for a relationship."

"Well actually I…"

He raised his hand again and she fell into silence, this time arching an eyebrow either in amusement or annoyance and crossing her arms across her chest.

"As the leader of Atlantis you have to be seen as fair and impartial."

The continued raising of one perfectly arched brow was her only response as she let him continue.

Brian shook his head as he just let everything he was feeling come out. "The thing is Liz, those are all decent reasons but we live in a Galaxy where we face global disasters, life sucking aliens, Replicators, hostile civilizations, and that doesn't even _begin_ to cover the average, ordinary weird shit that goes on around here like telepathic whales and ancient tech. So in the face of the completely insane and scary shit that happens around here just about every single day, the craziest thing of all would be to let any opportunities for happiness slip away."

He took a deep breath. "And the thing is. I like you. I like everything about you. You're beautiful and you're brilliant and God knows I never knew what a turn on your ginormous brain could be. And if you're not into me…if that kiss did nothing for you and if I bore you then that's one thing and I'll take it like a man. I'll leave. But if you _are_ interested then take a chance." Brian's face was taut and his eyes were electric with sincerity. "Take the chance to have a little happiness. Because I guarantee I'll do whatever I can to make you happy."

He finally stopped, feeling breathless and tense but he wasn't nervous. He was focused. It felt like he was in the middle of a race; hyperaware with reflexes honed to the millisecond. And all of that awareness was focused on the woman beside him.

Elizabeth kept her silence for a brief moment as she stared back at Brian with solemn eyes, face a calm mask that disguised what she was thinking. "Brian…"

"Yeah…?" Brian felt every muscle in his body tense.

The corner of one mouth twitched and fireworks of joy started going off inside even before she leaned forward to say with a smile "You'd make an excellent diplomat."

Brian reached forward to meet her, sliding a hand up to cradle her cheek, running his thumb in a subtle caress against tender skin as he gave a low husky chuckle. "Nah. I don't have the temperament for it."

The kiss was long and drugging and they were both gasping for air when they pulled back.

"So you like big brains, hmm…?" Elizabeth whispered, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Apparently so," Brian grinned back as they both settled back against the couch, Brian's arm over her shoulders, tucking her in at his side. "You know," Liz smiled up at him, expression impish. "Rodney McKay's smarter than I am."

Brian laughed, the low sound filling the room and then he moved in fast and without warning, startling a small yelp of surprise from Elizabeth as he tumbled them both back onto the couch. He grinned down at her, her, bracing his weight on his forearms. "Yeah, well," he shook his head. "McKay's not my type."

"No?" She was smiling up at him, eyes gleaming in invitation.

Brian shook his head, eyes darkening as his voice took on a rasp.

"No." He held himself a whisper away. "You are."

And he showed her that he meant it.

THE END

A/N - Thanks for reading! I might try to do an epilogue but my work has swamped me so we'll see how it goes. I really want to see Sheppard and Brian end up racing the puddlejumpers though. And, of course, everyone in Atlantis needs to be given the opportunity to threaten Brian with creatively dire death if he screws it up and hurts Elizabeth, heh.


End file.
